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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26569339">Coming Down &amp; Amping Up</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetestsight/pseuds/sweetestsight'>sweetestsight</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Fingering, Bottom Brian, Cock Warming, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, PWP, Sleepy Sex, Top Freddie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:42:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,710</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26569339</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetestsight/pseuds/sweetestsight</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Brian always has trouble getting his mind to settle after a show. Fortunately Freddie is there to help him out.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Brian May/Freddie Mercury</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>66</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>The Clog Factory Against The Bottom Police</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Coming Down &amp; Amping Up</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Come on, darling,” Freddie whispers into his shoulder. “Let me in. I know you need this.”</p><p>Brian squirms. “Freddie,” he whispers.</p><p>“You’re okay. It feels nice, doesn’t it?”</p><p>It does; the gentle rub of the pad of his finger feels divine, Brian’s heart racing for it in all the right ways. He rolls his hips backward into the sensation, only to huff in frustration when Freddie pulls away. He does it again, and Freddie laughs under his breath as he moves further out of reach.</p><p>He needs this sometimes, after shows. He isn’t sure what it is about the rush of being onstage that always leaves him feeling this way. The attention is part of it; being loved and adored by an audience—being watched so closely—always gets to him, and by the time the lights go out and the figurative curtains fall he’s practically aching for those eyes on him again; for someone to love him again. </p><p>It’s more than that, though. </p><p>Maybe it’s the pressure of performing perfectly. Maybe it’s the nerves, the adrenaline, the neediness—maybe it’s the perfect cocktail of emotion that always turns him into a mess by the time they get back to their hotel for the night. Either way it’s reliable, and at least he can count on that. The show ended an hour ago, he’s already showered and climbed into bed, his brain refuses to be silenced, and he’s aching for attention so badly he thinks he could die. </p><p>And Freddie is here. That’s always reliable, too.</p><p>“Take what you’re given,” Freddie chides softly. “I know what you need.”</p><p>“Freddie,” he says again, working to put a note of warning into his sleepy tone.</p><p>“I know, I know. You’re okay.”</p><p>His fingers return. Brian’s hips twitch at the feeling and Freddie pauses, and that’s all it takes for Brian to huff and go boneless. It’s not hard work; he’s too tired to argue with Freddie anyway, and truthfully this is enough. He knows that just like Freddie does. This is all he needs.</p><p>Freddie kisses his shoulder, the gentle circle of his finger shrinking until he presses just the tip inside. He pauses, waiting, and when Brian doesn’t push back into it he rewards him by pressing in further.</p><p>“There you go,” he breathes as Brian sighs. “Feels good?”</p><p>“It’s good,” Brian whispers. “More?”</p><p>“Since you asked so nicely.” Freddie pumps his finger once, building a slow, lazy rhythm when Brian moans softly into the pillow. “So pretty like this, darling. I love when you let me do this to you.”</p><p>His cheeks heat at that, but it hardly matters with the way his face is hidden against fabric. He can’t quite stop himself from clenching down on Freddie’s fingers, rocking his hips none-too-subtly against the mattress. The catch of the sheets is perfect, just this side of rough, a pressure that has warmth spreading to the tips of his toes, slow and languid like a heat wave.</p><p>“You always get so worked up after shows,” Freddie whispers. “So keyed up, so worn out. What is it? Is it the crowds?”</p><p>Brian feels his own lips curl upward, catching against the pillowcase. “You’re gonna—gonna prance around and grind on me in those tiny shorts for two hours and then ask me what’s got me keyed up?”</p><p>“Oh, he’s <em>sassy.</em>” He crooks his finger upward, letting the pad drag slowly across all the right places, and Brian’s mouth falls open on a gasp. “Frustrates you, does it?”</p><p>Brian just hums, unsure how to answer. It does, but probably not in the way Freddie is thinking. It doesn’t make him snap; it doesn’t make him want to push back, to claim and take. Being teased by -</p><p>“You love it, though,” Freddie purrs, as if reading his mind. “I know you love being teased.”</p><p>“Love it when it’s you,” he mumbles, because it’s true. He thinks he’d probably do anything Freddie asked, at this rate.</p><p>He’s sure Freddie’s well aware of that. He must be by now.</p><p>Maybe that’s what it is, he muses in a haze of pleasure. They’re not always like this. They don’t always <em>do</em> this, but something about performing gets to the two of them in a way that it never seems to affect the others. Freddie—so used to giving on stage, to performing, to giving every bit that he has—has to find a way to come down too.</p><p>Black and white, vocals and guitar, a side and b side. They fit in this way, too.</p><p>“Are you in your head again?’ Freddie murmurs. </p><p>“I’m sorry,” Brian breathes.</p><p>“Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault. It just means I’m not doing my job, doesn’t it?” He pushes another finger beside the first as he says it. It’s not much of a stretch, with how boneless Brian has gone; nonetheless it takes him by surprise, and he tightens around it reflexively.</p><p>Freddie sighs as if awed, and Brian’s heart clenches. “Oh, good boy,” Freddie breathes, suddenly right beside his ear. He tuts as Brian moans brokenly into the pillow. “You get so worn out during shows, don’t you? Focusing so hard, doing so <em>perfectly.</em>” He punctuates it with a kiss to his cheek, chaste given the situation. “You’re so good. Do you know that?”</p><p>“I do my best,” Brian stutters.</p><p>“You do brilliantly. Doing so well for me right now, being so good for me…but I want to help you now, love. You don’t need to focus to be perfect for me here. You just need to let go. You can do that for me, can’t you? It’s so easy to just let it all go.”</p><p>Easy; it sounds easy. He has no idea how to get his mind to quiet, though. He has no idea how to let go of the tension that always follows him after performances and the constant churning of his brain. “I want to,” he gets out. “Freddie, I don’t know if I can.”</p><p>“You can,” Freddie whispers sweetly. “Of course you can, darling. Just give into it.”</p><p>He moans as Freddie crooks his fingers, pleasure sparking across his spine. His hips move of their own accord, grinding roughly against the mattress.</p><p>“That’s it,” Freddie breathes. “It’s so easy, see? Just let yourself go. Let yourself feel good for me.”</p><p>His hips stutter. “I—can I—”</p><p>“Go ahead. Make yourself feel good. I love watching you like this; watching you get yourself off like this. You’re so needy, aren’t you?”</p><p> He nods against the pillow, drunk on it. “Yeah.” </p><p>“You feel so good,” Freddie murmurs, seemingly half to himself. He works in a third finger, and Brian gasps at the additional stretch. “Does it feel nice, dear?”</p><p>“So good,” he sighs. He feels like he’s about to go insane with it, his cock catching perfectly against the sheets, the drag of it almost painful but somehow making it even better. “More, please.” </p><p>“Greedy thing. This isn’t enough for you?”</p><p> “I—it’s more than enough, I just— “</p><p>“Never satisfied, are you?” </p><p>He lets go of the sheets to draw his arm up near his face, not sure if he’s trying to hide his embarrassment or just find a way to tether himself. </p><p>“Oh, it’s alright,” Freddie breathes, his post-shower curls brushing Brian’s cheek as he leans forward to kiss the corner of his mouth. “Come on, darling. Don’t hide. I said I’d take care of you, didn’t I?” </p><p>“Yeah,” Brian whispers. </p><p>Freddie hums, scissoring his fingers as if testing how loose he’s worked him. “I always give you what you want, don’t I?” </p><p>“You do. Thank you.” </p><p>“Sweet thing,” Freddie whispers back, his fingers slipping out, and Brian doesn’t even have time to protest their loss before the blunt head of his cock is pressing against Brian’s swollen rim. He chokes on a gasp as Freddie drapes his body over Brian’s back, warm and secure as he presses in smoothly. </p><p>They’re still for a long moment. “Breathe, darling,” Freddie whispers, brushing Brian’s curls off his forehead. </p><p>He didn’t realize he wasn’t. His held breath leaves him in one pant, his hips trapped between Freddie’s and the mattress even as he tries to rock into both pleasures.</p><p><em>“Oh,”</em> he gasps. </p><p>“Yeah?” Freddie breathes against his cheek. </p><p>“Yeah, yeah, I’m—"</p><p>Freddie draws back, pulling out nearly all the way before thrusting back inside hard, nailing Brian’s prostate dead-on and pushing his hips hard against the mattress. </p><p>It’s not the fastest he’s ever come, but it’s a near thing. </p><p>Pleasure cracks through him, sending his toes curling and his fingers clenching into the pillow. He’s trapped between the mattress and Freddie’s weight, or else he’d be writhing; as it is all he can do is press against the sheets as he makes a mess of them, Freddie grinding into him to work him through it all the while. </p><p>When he finally comes back to himself it’s to the feeling of Freddie pressing gentle kisses to the exposed side of his face. He arches his neck, tilting his mouth up invitingly, and sighs in contentment when Freddie captures his lips for a slow, warm kiss. </p><p>“Do you want me to stay in?” Freddie whispers to him. </p><p>They don't always do that; only when he really needs it. He needs it tonight. Just the thought of losing that feeling of fullness and attention has a curl of panic rising in his chest. “Do you mind?” </p><p>“Of course not. Never,” Freddie whispers soothingly. He rolls backward, tugging Brian with him so his hard cock doesn’t slip out; Brian grimaces at the feeling, still sensitive, but a moment later he’s being held securely against Freddie’s body, full and warm and as close as two people could possibly be. </p><p>Brian sighs in contentment. “Thank you,” he whispers softly, not even sure what he’s thanking him for. No doubt the list is too long to count. </p><p>Freddie just laughs into the space between his shoulders. “Thank <em>you</em>,” he whispers back, and Brian grins hazily. </p><p>Freddie finds his hands in the darkness, tangling their fingers together in the curve of Brian’s body. Brian closes his eyes, his mind finally quieted, and between one breath and the next he’s drifting off into a dreamless sleep.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Just a short pwp for ya &lt;3 Let me know if you liked it, and I hope you're all having a great day!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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